Chapter 3: The Chill of Early Spring Freezes Only the Contentious

The last rays of sunlight vanished behind the mountains, and the darkness had grown so deep that it was impossible to make out anything even a few dozen meters away.

“You two little brats, meeting in secret by the river at such a young age, whispering sweet nothings to each other for so long—how shameless. I was going to wait until you left before I revealed myself, but you, boy, kept dawdling here, refusing to go. I’m not the patient sort and won’t wait for you. Consider yourself unlucky; anyone who sees me must die.”

Su Mu was startled by the sudden voice of the woman and took several steps back in alarm. The woman’s voice came again, cold and menacing: “Boy, come here at once, so I can kill you.”

Hearing this, Su Mu retreated further, shaking his head vigorously. “No, no, I don’t want to die yet.”

The woman continued, “I’m getting up now, and once I do, I’ll kill you.”

Su Mu turned to flee, but after only a few dozen steps, he stopped abruptly and walked back.

When the woman saw Su Mu turning away, she felt a wave of relief, but seeing him return, her heart tightened once more.

“Good, I’m about to get up now, and you won’t escape. I’ll gouge out your eyes, bite off your ears, and make seventeen or eighteen holes in your body,” she threatened.

Su Mu scratched his head and replied, “Please don’t gouge out my eyes; they won’t grow back. Don’t bite off my ears, either. Making a few holes in me is all right, but it would be better if you didn’t.”

The woman thought to herself, “Is this boy an idiot?”

Su Mu went on, “You’re scared,” he said, nodding firmly to show his certainty.

The woman snapped, “What nonsense! Such insolence from one so young. I was going to spare your little life, but now you can’t blame me for what happens.”

As she spoke, she struggled to sit up, drawing a dagger from her sleeve and waving it threateningly, her face contorted with menace.

But Su Mu showed no reaction at all to the sight of her dagger. This was where the woman miscalculated, thinking any child would be terrified at the sight of a blade. But what Su Mu feared least was a weapon.

“Anrui once told me, the more a girl tries to scare you, the more frightened she is herself. Are you afraid of me?” Su Mu asked solemnly.

“Hmph, a boy who isn’t even fully grown—I have nothing to fear from you.”

Su Mu said seriously, “Don’t be afraid of me, I’m a good person. And don’t try to scare me; I’m not afraid of you either.”

The woman gritted her teeth. “I could use a bit of tender child flesh to strengthen myself. Don’t move, let me cut off a few strips.”

With every exchange, more blood streamed down the woman’s face; it was a gruesome sight, and in the darkness, she truly looked like a specter from the underworld.

“What do you want my flesh for? Are you trying to heal yourself, like those so-called masters who dabble in dark arts? Anrui says those are cultists. Are you one of them?”

“Enough with the nonsense. I’m a first-class villain, and if I want to eat your flesh, I’ll eat your flesh.”

It was the season of early spring chills; the woman, already soaked from the river, was shivering uncontrollably with cold. Her attempt at bravado was undermined by her trembling body, the fierceness in her words thin and unconvincing.

Su Mu simply watched her in silence. The wind by the river cut like a blade, and the woman, who had managed to hold out this long on sheer willpower, had now reached her limit. Her head throbbed painfully, and the serious look on the boy’s face only made her more exasperated. Swaying unsteadily, she finally lost consciousness.

When she collapsed, Su Mu waited a while before approaching. He was puzzled, but after a moment’s thought, realized it was likely the cold that had felled her. Unbothered by the chill himself, he took off his own outer garment—still not worn—and draped it over her.

“I should be getting home, or Mother will be worried sick. But what about her? Will she really die here?” he muttered to himself, torn between concern for the woman and fear of parental reprimand. “But don’t blame me—if Mother gets worried, she’ll cry again. I’ll come back later to check on you.”

He started to leave, then hesitated, glancing back at the woman lying on the riverbank.

“If I leave her like this, she might freeze to death. Last year, a beggar died of cold one night, or so I heard.”

With that, he fetched some dry grass and covered her with it, inspecting his work with satisfaction before hurrying home.

By the time he reached home, the night was deep. Several servants were out with torches, searching the streets for him. They happened to meet him as he returned. The servants were both relieved and annoyed—relieved that they didn’t have to search the outskirts any further, annoyed because they’d missed dinner and had to chase after this troublesome young master.

The Su family residence was near; eager to get home, Su Mu exchanged a few polite words with the servants, then jogged to the entrance of a pharmacy. Above the door hung a sign inscribed with the words “Shun’an Hall.” Skirting the main entrance, he slipped in through the side door.

Su Yan, having been informed by the servants of Su Mu’s return, hurried over and caught sight of his son just as he entered.

“So mischievous—you’ve been out making trouble again, haven’t you? Do you even remember which way our door faces? Is it safe out there? Do you want me to turn Jiangnan Town upside down looking for you? And where is your coat? Hmph! Did you bring home a dog or a cat this time?”

Su Yan saw Su Mu dressed only in his inner garments, his trousers filthy, breathless and bedraggled from running home, and his temper flared once more.

When Su Mu was younger, he’d returned home with a jagged scratch on his arm, carved by a peer in the shape of a cat’s head, still bleeding. Su Mu had grinned and shown it off to his parents, and Su Yan had flown into a rage. Ever since, Su Yan had always worried that his son would be bullied outside.

Su Mu, unfazed by his father’s anger, grinned. “Father, I wasn’t out playing. Anrui dragged me to the South Market to buy some things, so I came back late. Don’t worry, Father, I’m sensible now and won’t do anything to hurt myself and make you worry. I slipped and fell on the way back, tore my coat, and Anrui took it to mend. She’ll return it tomorrow.”

He had no intention of telling his parents about the woman by the river, not wanting to be scolded. As for the dirty clothes, he’d already conspired with Anrui to use the “I fell and dirtied them” excuse, though he hadn’t expected to have to leave his coat by the river, forcing him to improvise.

“We have people at home who can mend your clothes. Don’t trouble Miss An anymore. We brought in some yams recently—take some to Miss An tomorrow, let her give them to Master An to improve his health. Don’t be so thoughtless,” Su Yan admonished.

Learning that Su Mu had been with Anrui, Su Yan’s anxiety eased. It was odd; ever since his son had befriended the An family’s daughter, he’d seldom been bullied. The girl was lovely and polite, and Su Yan couldn’t find it in himself to dislike her. Still, a half-grown boy trailing after a girl every day was a bit improper. He resolved to visit the An family himself soon, to see if they had any clever tricks for raising children.

“Go to the back and pay your respects to your mother. Tell her and your brother to come eat. And change into clean clothes first, so she won’t worry and blame me for neglecting you.”

“Yes, Father,” Su Mu replied.

Back in his room, he washed his face and changed clothes, then went to greet his mother. She was chatting with Su Fu when Su Mu arrived, and she beckoned him over with a smile.

“My darling is back! Have you eaten? Oh, how did your shoes get so dirty?”

Su Mu had only managed to change his clothes, forgetting his shoes altogether. He cursed his luck—his mother always noticed the smallest thing.

“Mother, I’ll go eat after I greet you. I got my shoes dirty while playing this afternoon,” Su Mu replied vaguely, and she didn’t press the matter.

Next to her, Su Fu, somewhat pudgy but adorable in a child of four or five, called out in his childish voice, “Hello, big brother!”

Su Mu was very fond of his little brother. He pinched Su Fu’s chubby cheeks and made a few funny faces, making Su Fu laugh heartily. The two of them then trotted off to the main hall for dinner, with Su Fu urging their mother to hurry and join them.

The large table in the main hall was already set with six dishes and a soup, along with several sets of bowls and chopsticks. Once the family was seated, Su Yan said, “Let’s eat,” and only then did everyone pick up their chopsticks.

Mealtimes in the Su family were especially quiet. Though only a middle-class household, they still observed certain rules—silence at the table among them.

Before the meal was finished, a servant hurried in and whispered something to Su Yan. Su Yan’s face grew dark, and he slammed his chopsticks on the table, glared at Su Mu, then stalked off to the study, leaving his meal untouched.

Su Mu’s mother glanced at him in surprise, then called out to Su Yan, “What’s happened?”

Su Yan didn’t look back. “Ask your precious son!” he snapped.

Su Mu’s heart sank. Something was wrong—his father knew, but which incident was he referring to?